10 Ways to Mess with Peter Burke
by Anonamus-A
Summary: The team is dead bored and needs something to laugh about. Diana cooks up a list and makes a bet with Neal to do them all. How far can he push Peter without getting in trouble? Slight Lang. T to be safe. Enjoy! -A
1. The List

10 Ways to Mess with Peter Burke

We all know that Neal loves to test his limits, but just _how _far will he push his partner-in-crime solving? That's what the White Collar Crime Unit wants to know!

Diana stared around. Everyone was half asleep. Mortgage fraud cases do that to you. They really needed something to laugh about. But what? Then she saw Caffrey. The ex-con was doodling on a scrap of paper, his case file not even open. She rolled her eyes. Then an evil smile lit her face as she pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen.

A half hour later, she sat the paper in front of the convict. He stared at it for a moment.

"Ten ways to mess with Peter Burke?" The baby-blue eyes stared up at her in confusion.

"A hundred bucks if you finish the list," she whispered. His dazzling smile slowly came out.

"I'm in."

10 Ways to Mess with Peter Burke

Repeatedly ask him why he wears awful ties.

When it gets quiet, ask him stupid questions like "do you like pickles?" or "Why are you scared of clowns?"

When he's talking, stand behind him and make stupid faces.

When he's on the phone with Elizabeth, loudly say "pudding" until he makes you leave.

Tape a picture of a smiley face on his computer screen when he leaves his office.

When he gets mad, say "Cheer up Mr. Grumpy Gills" like your talking to a baby.

When he says something, keep asking "Why?"

Do the whole "Peter, Peter, Peter (X 5 or 6), Burke, Burks ( X 5 or 6)" start over and keep going until he yells, wave and say hi, and run away.

When smiles, start singing "If you're happy and you know it."

10. When he yells at someone say "Dude! Take a chill pill! Geeze!"


	2. Ties, Pickles, Clowns and Something Else

Tie, Pickles, Clowns, and a Little Something Else

The con man studied the list Diana gave him, trying to memorized it. Then Peter came down so he shoved it in his desk drawer.

"Hey, ready to go to lunch?" Peter asked.

"Yeah," the young man stood, but stared at his friends tie like he was trying to figure something out.

"What are you looking at?"

"Peter," he said, distaste coloring his tone. "Why do you wear those awful ties?"

"What's wrong with my ties?" the agent asked. Neal shrugged as he started towards the elevator.

"Nothing, I suppose." Confused, Peter followed.

Diana chuckled to herself once they were gone. Other agents were looking around, confused by Caffrey's performance. Regardless, they shook if off and continued their work.

When Peter and Neal came back, Diana (as well as many other agents) watched them carefully. With a wink to her, Neal started his act, part two.

"So, did the factory that made your tie blow up or something?" the ex-con asked.

"This tie was a gift from El," was Peter's only answer before storming off, clearly pissed. Everyone stood there, shocked. Jones walked over to Diana's desk.

"Is Caffrey _trying _to get his ass thrown back in prison?"

"No, I made a-" she'd started to say, but was cut off when Neal came over too.

"Okay, what did I do to piss you off? Whatever it was, I'm sorry," he said.

"You didn't do anything," she told him.

"Then why do you want Peter to send me back?"

"Oh, lighten up, Neal," she said. "Peter can take a joke!"

"He can?" Jones asked, making Diana elbow him in the ribs. Hard.

"Come on. It's a hundred dollars."

"_Two _hundred," the young man haggled. She gritted her teeth.

"Fine. Two hundred." They shook on it and Neal went back to his desk. Jones stood there for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on.

Later, Jones was sitting in the conference room, reviewing the case with half a dozen other agents. Every couple of minutes, he glanced at Neal, waiting for him to do something. Then it happened.

"Hey, Peter."

"Hmm?" the older man asked, not lifting his eyes from the page.

"Do you like pickles?" That's when Peter's head snapped up. A few agents snickered.

"What kind of question is that?"

"A yes or no question. Do you like pickles?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Do you like pickles?" Neal repeated, impatience mixing in. Peter sighed.

"Sure. Why not?" Neal smiled and went back to his file.

Almost ten minutes passed before the young man spoke again. "Peter, why are you scare of clowns?"

"_What?_"

"Why are you scared of clowns?"

"What make you think I'm scared of clowns?" Neal gave his partner a disbelieving look.

"Come on, Peter. _Everyone _knows you're afraid of clowns. Why?"

"I'm not afraid of clowns!" Peter snapped.

"_Someone _is in denial," Neal muttered, making everyone (except Peter, who rolled his eyes) chuckle.

Almost half an hour passed in silence. During the last five minutes, Jones noticed Neal biting on his lip. Whatever his next question was going to be, it would be a good one.

Finally, the young man asked it. "So, Peter, when was the last time you and El… you know." Neal flashed a seductive smile and raised his eyebrows. The agents burst out laughing. Uncontrollable, hysteric, laughter. Burke's face was bright red.

"NEAL!" he screamed. "OUT! _NOW!_" Still smiling, the charming man stood and left. But not before winking in Diana's direction. Everyone was still trying not to laugh for the next ten minutes.


	3. Faces and Telephone Pudding

A/N: Sorry it's been a while guys. School again. I know you're probably getting tired of that excuse, but it's true and a pain in my a… butt. Anyway. Enjoy this chapter. Oh, bit of language in this chapter. –A

Faces and Telephone Pudding

Diana walked up to Neal after the meeting ended. She didn't really notice Jones following her till they both stopped in front of the con man.

"Either you have a lot of faith in Peter being your friend, or you really miss those orange jumpsuits," she said.

"Well," he told her, shrugging, "you only gave me two and the clown one didn't work that well."

"So you bring his sex life into it," she summarized. In response, he smiled evilly.

"Wait," Jones said as he held up an hand. "What are we talking about?" Neal reached into his desk and pulled out the paper. Jones read it and chuckled. He'd had no clue what was going on. Till now.

"Good luck, Caffrey." With that, Diana walked back to her desk.

"You're gonna need it," Jones added, handing the list back. The young man smiled, accepting the challenge.

Almost an hour later, Peter called for the team to gather around for a small briefing. Neal saw this as the perfect opportunity to fulfill number three on the list. Smiling, he stood behind his partner. Diana and Jones stood across from him, waiting and trying not to laugh. With a grin to them, he began to make a face.

He watched the back of Peter's head carefully, majorly overdoing it. This earned some smiles from the agents around him. Peter hardly noticed. The older man continued to drone on and on. Then the young man made face like he was about to fall asleep. His tongue lolled slightly and his eyes rolled back. The people around him couldn't suppress a laugh. Peter turned to see what he was doing, but Neal was ready. He was already wearing his normal expression again. Peter glared at him.

When the agent went back to his talking, Neal smiled again. This time he made a fish face. Everyone was laughing again. Only, Neal wasn't quick enough this time. Peter caught him in the act.

"Cut it out!" he snapped. Neal just stared at him, blinking his blue eyes a few times. Peter sighed. "Get back to work." The agents around them scattered and retreated to their desks. The young man tried, but Peter caught his wrist.

"Not you," he growled as he drug the ex-con up the stairs. Neal knew without seeing the older man's face that he had seriously pissed him off. Diana and Jones shot him sympathetic looks.

"Peter," he said slowly, calmly, "I don't think a murder will look good on your record." They had reached Peter's office.

"Shut up and get your ass in there," his partner hissed. Biting his lip, the young man obliged. He sat in the chair across from Peter's.

The older man sat there for a moment, knowing awkward silences bothered his partner. But Neal was smarter than that. He knew better than to break the silence, let Peter give in. It was sort of like a game, but one wrong move was like winning a ticket. A ticket back to prison.

Finally, the older man spoke. "What's going on with you today, Neal?"

"I don't know-" he started to say, but cut off at Peter's expression. "I'm just bored, Peter. You know how I am. It's a mortgage fraud case. Paper work. Not really my thing."

"Would you rather be staring at prison bars or paperwork?" Neal inwardly rolled his eyes.

"Really? Still using that threat?" Peter didn't react, he just continued to glare at the man across him. Neal tried to not squirm in his seat. But Peter continued to glare.

Salvation came from a buzz in Peter's pocket. The ticked-off agent tore his eyes from his pet convict and removed the phone from his pocket.

"It's El," he said. "I'm not done with you."

_Hey, hon, _her husband greeted as the line clicked to life.

"Hey," she said. "How's work? You sound upset."

_It's Neal, _he told her. _He's being a pain in my ass. _

_I'm right here, you know! _She heard the young man say faintly.

_Shut up, Neal! _her husband said.

"Give him a break, hon," she told him. "You know how he gets."

_Does that make my job any easier?_

_Pudding! _She looked around in confusion.

"Was… was that Neal?"

_Yeah… _Peter said slowly.

"Why did he-"

_PUDDING! _

_Neal! Shut the hell up and get the hell out!__ Just go home! _She heard a chair scrape across a floor and footsteps scuffle a few steps toward the door. Then there was a soft click as the door shut.

Diana watched Neal stand and walk out quickly. He hurried into the bullpen and crossed over to his desk to retrieve his hat. She walked over to him

"What the hell happened?"

"I did the pudding thing," he told her as Jones came over.

"And?"

"And he got pissed and told me, and I quote, to 'shut the hell up and get the hell out.' And to 'just go home.' So, I'm going to leave before 'home' becomes an eight-by-eight cell in the super-max again." With that, the put-out young man walked through the glass doors and pressed the elevator button. He didn't miss a beat. As soon as the door was open enough, he slipped right in.

As Jones went back to work, Diana shook her head. _What did I get him into? _She knew his pride/ego would never allow him to give up on this until it was too late. It wasn't about the money, it was about the challenge.

She shot a glance up to Peter's office. He was still angrily talking to Elizabeth. With just that one look, she knew 'too late' wasn't far off.


	4. Smile, Mr Grumpy Gills!

A/N: Thank you to all my wonderful commenters. Honestly, that's the most I've gotten in the four days since I posted something. So I thank you all. And anyone who has read or signed up for story alerts (or something of the sort). You rock! –A (probably going to be a short chapter)

Smile, Mr. Grumpy Gills!

That night, Diana couldn't sleep. All she could think about was the put-out expression on the young man's face right before he left. And it was all her fault! She considered calling him, telling him to forget the whole thing, but she held herself back. She really didn't need him asking how she got his number (she peeked at it from Peter's phone just in case.) and she imagined his sly grin. Then the blow to his ego when she rejected him. Not what he needed at the moment.

So she waited, more anxious than she was comfortable with, until the elevator _ding_ed and Neal walked in. His hat was all but covering his face and his head was down. Diana was sure she saw him shoot a glance up to Peter's office. The young man cringed a little as he pulled the glass door open, so she was assuming that Peter saw him and wasn't too happy. She closed her eyes and sighed.

As the ex-con sat and pulled his hat off, sitting it on the desk in front of him, she crossed over to him.

"Neal," she said, sympathy coloring her tone.

"Hey," he mumbled, not even attempting to smile. That's how she _knew _something was seriously wrong.

"Neal, you don't have to finish the list. It was a stupid idea and-" But Neal held up a hand to signal her to stop.

"No, it was a great idea. I want to finish it."

"And if Peter send you back?" He gave a half-hearted smile.

"Aren't you the one who said Peter could take a joke?"

"I lied," she said, as if it was obvious.

"Hey, that's my job! Anyway, I'm not too worried about that. He's not going to arrest me for pulling a few juvenile pranks. You worry too much." That's when a door above them slammed. They looked up and saw Peter by the rail. He caught the con's eyes, glaring, and gave him the two finger point. Neal sighed, but stood and walked up the stairs, disappearing into Peter's office. Diana had a bad feeling about this. She hoped Neal wouldn't push Peter too far, too soon, but this was Neal they were talking about, and Neal _always _pushed people too far, too soon.

The young man sat down, shrinking deep into the chair and wishing Peter's dagger-like glares would stop. They made him uncomfortable. But, like the day before, he kept silence, letting Peter make the first move, setting the playing field as it were.

Peter spoke. "So, care to explain yesterday?"

"I told you. I was bored. I decided to play a few childish pranks. That's it."

"And how do I know your not lying?"

"Well, it would be the first time," Neal said, avoiding the question.

"Yeah, like you've never lied to me," Peter scoffed.

"Not much," he protested. The agent rolled his eyes.

"Just stop with the pranks, okay?"

"No promises," the young man said with a slight smile. The older man hissed out a breath and stood.

"I'm getting coffee." Normally, Neal would ask him to bring some, but, given the circumstances, he held his tongue. Peter was at the door. "Want any?"

"No thanks," he said. "I can get my own later." His voice was quiet, withdrawn. Everything about this statement shocked the agent, but he shook it off and headed to the bullpen. That's when Neal made his move.

He grabbed a pen and sheet of paper off the desk and quickly drew a sloppy smile on it. :) He put the pen exactly where it was and grabbed a piece of tape. With a glance over his shoulder, he stuck it to the computer and sat back down. Almost a minute passed before the agent came back in. When he sat down, he didn't notice it (he was busy staring at Neal's feet on the desk). Then he glanced up and did a double take.

When he saw the face, he jumped and almost fell out of his chair. "Damnit, Neal!" he cried as he ripped it off and crumpled it in his fist. The young man risked a grin. This only made his partner more angry.

"Aw," Neal cooed. "Cheew up, Meuster Gwumpy Geealls! (A/N: baby talk, in case you didn't get that.)

"What?" Peter was so confused.

"What? You've never seen _Finding Nemo_?"

"Why have _you?_" Neal cracked a charming grin as he stood.

"Ah, ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies," the young man said before slipping out of the office.


	5. Why, Peter? Why, Peter?

A/N: Hello again. Up to 20 reviews! And they rock! And so do the posters! I'd like to thank the first and last commenters: SherlockXHolmes23 who posted "had me laughing to myself the entire way through. awesome story." And the last was from JeanneZ84 who said "I love this, this is so majorly funny. I just hope everything turns out ok. JeanneZ84 More updates. PLEASE?" It would take a while to list all of them, so I just stuck with the first and last. Everyone who posted gets cyber chocolate pudding! Enjoy the chapter. –A

Why, Peter? Why, Peter?

The next day, Peter and Neal were in the agent's office, reviewing the case file. Again. They were both hunched over in their seats, about to fall asleep (okay, maybe that was just Neal). Then Peter sat bolt upright, his eyes wide as he stared intently at the file. Quickly, he scribbled something down on a piece of paper and passed it to Neal.

"Neal, go get this file for me."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I think I'm on to something," the agent told him, smiling.

"Why?" he repeated. He merely sounded curious.

"Because, look at the signatures," the agent said, pressing the file to his partner who studied it for a moment. _Wow, _Neal thought. _He's right._"That's why I need the file."

"Why?" Irritation flickered in the older man's eyes.

"So I can compare this signature to one from an old case," Peter said through clenched teeth.

"Why?" the con asked, cocking his head to the side.

"God damnit, Neal! Get the damn file!"

"Why?" he risked asking again.

"NEAL!" With that, the young man left the steamed agent to get the file. Diana came over when he was searching for it.

WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC

"Nice show," she told him. "We could hear him from down here."

"Glad you thought it was funny," he said bitingly.

"Neal, you don't have to finish. You've done plenty. Seven out of ten. I'll give you a hundred for that."

"Diana, it's not about the money. It's about doing what I want to do. Having a little bit more freedom." The agent's heart felt for him. He only had a taste of what he couldn't truly have. He could walk where he wanted. As long as it was inside a two mile radius. It was a gilded cage. And he wanted out. While she was thinking, he grabbed the file and marched back up to Peter's office, looking like a small child who's been scolded. God, why did Caffrey have to be so charming?

WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC WC

The next day, Peter saw his consultant walking slowly up the stairs. He made a promise to himself to ignore what ever 'juvenal prank' he had for today. There was a knock on the door. He didn't respond. The door creaked open a little and Neal's head poked in.

"Peter?" he said slowly. Yet, Peter held his tongue. "Peter?" Nothing. "Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter." But the older man kept to his promise not the respond. But, boy, was Neal being annoying.

"Burke, Burke, Burke, Burke, Burke, Burke, Burke, Burke, Burke." The young man kept going. His head still down, Peter looked up. Most of the people in the bullpen had stopped what they were doing and were watching with baited breath. "Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter-" But he couldn't take it anymore.

"WHAT?" Neal smiled brilliantly.

"Hi," he said in a carrying whisper before closing the door and retreating to the stairs. The agents in the bullpen were cracking up, slapping him high-fives as he went over to his desk. Diana and Jones said something to him that the older agent couldn't hear, but by the looks on their faces, it was less than congratulatory. They looked worried.

That's when Peter made himself a new promise. He'd find out what if it killed him.


	6. If You're Happy and You Know it

A/N: Hey, you made it. We're to the last two items on the list. What's gonna happen to Neal? Let's find out! –A

If You're Happy and You Know it, Take a Chill Pill!

Two days after the last prank, Neal was laying low. He knew Peter was suspicious of him, and he didn't want to finish till Peter was a little calmer. Plus, he couldn't find the right time for number nine.

Then, on the second day though, he found the perfect time. They were all in the conference room (déjà vu, huh?) when Peter was briefing him on what he found with the signature. Turns out, he was right. Then Diana said something about the man who was arrested for the first case was released a month before the second case landed on their desks. Peter was euphoric. His smile was about as big as Peter ever smiles. That's when Neal made his move. He stood up.

"If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands," he sang, before clapping twice. All eyes were on him, and most of the agents were snickering. This was so embarrassing! He'd have to have a word with Diana about this one. But, regardless, he kept going. He got to the last line. "If you're happy and you know it and you really want to show it, if you're happy and you know it-" but Peter cut him off.

"Neal! Shut! UP!" Everyone in the room fell silent. Before his better judgment could talk him out of it, Neal clapped twice. That made Peter's limited patience snap. "Neal! What the hell is your problem? All week you've been doing nothing but annoying the hell out of me! Why-" But Diana cut him off.

"Boss, it's not his fault-"

"No, Diana, don't you tell me it's not his fault. He's the only one who's been doing anything. What, are you trying to tell me it's your fault? Or maybe it's Jones' fault."

"Dude," Neal said from behind him. His voice was small, which was unusual for him. He was cringing slightly, but he was bound and determined to finish the damn list. "Take a chill pill, geeze!" And Peter lost it. He turned on his consultant and spun him around. The infuriated agent pulled the cuffs out of his pocket and put them on his _partner._

"Boss…" Diana said. _This is all my fault, _she thought. Peter ignored her. Neal shot her a glance that seemed to say 'I don't blame you.' Then Peter lead him away.


	7. Interrogations

A/N: Okay, sorry about the confusion. Uploaded one of my little sister's files instead of mine. Didn't mean to do that. Here's the _real _chapter. Sorry again. –A

Interrogations

Every person in the building the two passed froze, eyes locked on Neal. The ones who got to know Neal looked respectful. The ones who liked Neal looked sad. The ones who didn't know him well merely looked confused. Then there were the agents like Ruiz who hated Neal, and looked smug, happy even.

When they got to the parking garage, Peter took one of the cuffs off and attached it to a hand rail. "Don't. Pick. This." Peter's voice was sharp and furious. Neal had no intentions to pick the handcuffs. He wanted to say this, but it's not like the agent would believe him.

Peter walked over to his car and opened one of the back doors. He did something on the side of the door, and Neal had a feeling he was putting the child locks on. The older man walked to the other side and did the same thing, only this time, he didn't close the door. Instead, he walked back over to Neal and released him from the hand rail. He re-cuffed his hands behind his back and led him back to the car.

Neal said nothing as the car door was slammed in his face. Peter got in the driver's seat and pulled out of his parking space. Neal said nothing as the car wove it's way through New York. He really didn't want to go back to prison for something as stupid as this, but he also didn't want to rat out Diana. Maybe he should have listened when she tried to talk him out of it…

After a while, the young man noticed that they weren't heading the direction of the super-max. They were headed to Peter's home. He wanted so badly to ask why, but he bit his tongue, knowing that was a bad idea.

Soon enough, Neal found himself handcuffed to the Burkes' living room sofa. He risked asking a question.

"Are the handcuffs really necessary?" Peter glared daggers at him. _I'll take that as a yes, _he thought. That's when El came down the stairs.

"Peter," she asked, "why is Neal handcuffed to our couch?"

"Because he's got a hell of a lot of explaining to do," Peter replied. The ex-con stared at his shoes. "Neal."

"What do you want me to say?" he asked in a small voice.

"I want you to tell me the truth," Peter growled. Neal opened his mouth to speak but Peter cut him off. "And don't give me the shit about you being bored."

"Promise you won't get mad," he asked Peter.

"Why would I get mad?" he asked. There was a knock on the door. "I'm not done with you," he called over his shoulder as he want to open the door. Diana and Jones stepped in.

"Boss," Diana said. "Listen to me for a minute. This isn't Neal's fault."

"Then who's is it?"

"Ours," Jones told him.

"How is it your fault?" Peter asked, incredulous. Diana pulled out a piece of paper and handed it to Peter. "Ten ways to mess with Peter Burke? What is this?"

"Well, it's ten ways to mess with you. Read them, you should recognize them." Peter studied the list and sighed.

"You wrote this, Diana?" She nodded. "Why?"

"Well, the team needed something to raise their spirits…" Peter sighed again.

"We're sorry, Peter," Jones said.

"It's fine." The older agent turned to Neal.

"Peter, I'm sorry. I would have told you sooner, but I really didn't want to get them in trouble."

"What makes you think they'd get in trouble?" Peter asked. For an answer, the young man raised his left hand which was still restricted by the handcuffs. "Right…" Peter walked over and freed his partner from the couch. 

"Thanks," Neal said.

"Just _never _do that again." Neal smiled.

"Deal." The handsome man turned to Diana, still smiling. "I believe you owe me two hundred dollars." She sighed and dug out her wallet. She pulled the two bills out of her pocket as she walked over to him. Neal took them and put them in his own pocket. "Thank you." Everyone, except Diana, laughed. El invited them all to stay for dinner, which is an invitation that you _can't _refuse. All seemed well for the White Collar Crime Unit.


End file.
